The Childish Boy and the Grown-Up World
by Shinpuruna kyoku
Summary: America is just sick of it all. Tired of being...America. He isn't alone, though. Can a simple wish really grant America and the 4 other chosen nations what they want? Or will the illusion be broken by the ones they love trying to get them back to reality? Based off of cosMo's 'Childish Girl and the Grown-Up world' Might include Usuk, Dennor, Spamano, and others.
1. What a hero is

A_merica, one day you are going to explode from all those burgers-aru!_  
><em>You bloody git, stop eating and pay attention!<em>  
><em>How the hell are you a superpower? You're as weak as fuck!<em>  
><em>Ohonhonhon, Amerique? You're the kind of boy that girls dream about at night - it's better than seeing you in the light. <em>  
><em>You're so fat even your shadow casts a shadow.<em>

These were the thoughts swirling America's head as he laid in his bed, reminiscing his day at the world meeting. He had never really doubted himself. He was a hero, after all. But at this meeting, England had seemed particularly insistent on insulting everything America said or did.

He could tell that something was wrong with England, but he couldn't ask the Brit a single question without being blown off with another insult. America, being America, was used to this, until England hit a string close to home.

_'Why are you so bloody useless?! I wish I had never had you as a brother!'_

It took everything, everything, to stop himself from breaking down on the spot. England had stormed off after that, not even bothering to check the expression on his face as he left.

This took place during the lunch break, so America had thrown away his half eaten burger away and went to the restroom to let his feelings out before putting up a fake mask of ignorance and going back to the meeting room. Even if he didn't show it, America had cared for England for a very long time, some might say he idolized him.

When he was younger, England had always left him, but he heard from his caretakers about all the amazing things England did. It was because of England he put up this hero act, so he could be his hero and show England how strong he was.

But now, he wasn't sure if that plan would work anymore.'_After all,_' America thought with tears running down his face '_Iggy -no, England- was always better than me._' He knew this, and yet he still tried to reach up to England's level. England was like a star; America a human. He wanted to reach the stars, become one. But that would mean he would be something he wasn't. Heroes don't lie.'_But i'm not a hero anymore...I never was..._' he sighed and closed his eyes.

He didn't bother taking off his clothes; the meeting were being held in his country, so it was really easy to get there so he didn't need to rush. There was no need for it. There was no need for anything anymore. _'I want to be a hero_.'

He started to close his eyes, but snapped them back up when he thought of something. '_Was that what i really wanted?_' He really hated living this lifestyle, everything he did his 'superiors'(ex:England, ...) found something wrong.

He stumbled to the window, facing towards the sky, as a single star shone._'Is the pollution so bad in my country that you can't see the stars_?' It just made him feel worse, and he looked at the star."Heh, you must be a lucky star. No, a wishing star."He mused aloud, not caring if someone were to bargein his house and look at him strangely.

He didn't care anymore. 'I_ might as well make a wish_'. He sighed, and turning his head to the star, he closed his eyes and said "Please take me away to another world, one where everyone is happy, and no adults can ruin the fun."

He knew it was pretty stupid, but he didn't care. He was really sleepy and sat down on his bed.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, signaling that he got a notification. He groaned, but it was probably important, so he fished it out and checked it. He got mail from some guy called .

In all honesty, America didn't understand what the message said, not because it was written in a different language, but because it resembled something out of a Shakespeare poem.

On the plus side, it had a link attached to it, so he obviously clicked it, curiosity once again getting the best of him. He expected a site with more Shakespearean words, but what he didn't expect was for the world to tilt and become black. What he didn't know was that, around the world, 4 other nations were experiencing this darkening. He didn't feel any regrets, though.

Instead, he thought, '_this is for the best, isn't it?_' He felt a smile come on his now dissolving face. And then...nothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
>At the world meeting, a now bickering France was fighting with a snarling England. Naturally, Germany interrupted them, being the only sensible one there. The door suddenly burst open, revealing Italy on the verge of tears. He ran to Germany's side, and Germany, for once, didn't blush or even gently reject him.<p>

He just softly hugged the Italian into his torso, not really sure what would cause him to run to the meeting room. "Italy, what's wrong?" he whispered, being careful to not sound to rough with his German accent. "I c-can't fi-find f-fr-fratello anyw-where" he manage to choke out before breaking down into sobs.

Germany knew that 'fratello' was Italian for brother, but he didn't understand what that had to do with the situation at hand. After all, Italy didn't have a-  
>"You damn frog!" England cussed out as France tried to sneak out by the sudden distraction. It didn't take long for them to start lunging at each other throats again.<p>

"E-england!" Italy wailed out stopping the nation's fighting. Casting a sympathetic glance at Italy, he said "Yes?"

"I couldn't find A-america e-either, e-even a-after he a-asked me to b-bring him p-pasta. He n-never m-misses p-pasta!" England cast him a confused glance, then asked him a question that made Italy scream.

"Who's America?"

_**A/N: Doing three stories at one time probably isn't a good idea. But whatever! 'His masterpiece ' won't be updated in long time, mostly cuz i keep on messing up every time i try to write it. This one is more like a side story, so i'll be updating this story and 'Exactly what is seems' more often. But not too often. i have a story line, i just need to type it down. Work. Uggh...**_


	2. Defining family

Denmark sighed as he closed the door behind him. One day before the world meeting, and he was already dreading it. He sat on his bed and leaned against the headboard. He closed his eyes, willing the tears that were threatening to fall out to become nonexistent.

He tried to prepare himself mentally, urging his other personality to get ready for tomorrow. You can't really call it a personality, more like a fake act that laughs on impulse and teases Norway. But every time time that Norway insulted him, every time Iceland gave him the cold shoulder, every time Sweden stared him down, every time Finland looked at him with pity filled eyes, his heart seemed wilt just a little bit.

'_All I wanted...was a family...'_ It was true. When ever some asked him what he wanted most in the world, he would say something like the best beer, or just laugh it off. Of course, that was his 'other personality' taking over. In the inside, his true personality _broke down_, and just stopped thinking and started banging on the walls of his mind.

This caused his body to wince, but every time someone asked what was wrong, he would just brush it off, saying he had a hangover. And they believed him. If only they knew. If only someone, anyone, realized the suffering, not him as a nation, but him as a person. He just wanted someone to care. He thought, a family would care, right?

He thought he had a family, in the Nordics, but...they all abandoned him. Left him. Broke him. And then laughed at him as he tried to pick up the pieces. He tried cutting before, but the wound would close up before he could cause some real damage. He still kept the blades, though. Out of sanity, he wasn't sure. He just thought of them as a memento.

He sat up briefly, and lay down on his bed after he got one of his blades from underneath the dresser. Cheesy place to hide it, but still effective. He drew a thin line of 'red' with his silver instrument. It was very pretty. The blade really was pretty, more like a knife. He started to flick drops of red on his face, not sure where he was going with this.

He licked the red off with his tongue, the bright red contrasting greatly with the soft pink. He got up to hide the blade, but this time he put it behind the mirror. God, how he hated that mirror. Every time he saw that mirror, he saw the thing that Norway and the others rejected the most. Himself. A disappointment. I mean, Sealand was treated better than him! And he wasn't even a nation!

As he was about to punch the mirror, he heard his phone vibrate. It was probably Norway insulting him, or Sweden nagging at him, or Finland trying to cheer him up but only making things worse. Yay. He reached out towards it, then hesitated. Was it really worth it? He thought about, more than a person should, but the hope in his heart was too great to be let down now.

It might have Norway apologizing, or Sweden complimenting him, or Finland asking to go out. Heck, it could even be Iceland trying to have small talk. Of course it was neither of those things, and Denmark sunk deeper into the despair he was already in. He looked at the text, and for some reason, it was already labeled, not some long ass number or even the name 'unknown number'.

It was labeled under the name called , and his (it was a him, right?) contact photo had the picture of a star. With a monocle and top hat. Of fucking course. He was ready to put it down, put the link attached to that strange message caught his eye. Know, he was no computer geek, and had know idea what the symbols to the link were, but he did catch the words 'illusion paradise'.

Right now, that sounded too good to be true.

He clicked on it, very curious. He knew not to get his hopes up, not after what just happened, but he was intrigued by the sound of the website. Or not.

As soon as the page stopped loading, the world tilted and things started to go monochrome. And as soon as the earth stopped spinning, he realized he was all alone. Denmark looked around at the bleak landscape.

It looked...lonely. Very dark, with grays and blacks staining the land. He would have probably been there forever had he not found a strange hole.

The hole itself looked as if it were drawn by a black crayon, and didn't look like a proper hole at all, but it has such a warm like streaming from it. It held the essence of life, happiness and beauty. It felt like family. It felt like hope.

So he did what any other man would do if he was faced with such a dark hole in a dark land.

He jumped in.

XXXXXXXXToZeWorldMeeting!XXXXXXXXXXX

Norway twitched his brow in irritation.

This wasn't an unnatural sight, since Norway's face was rather passive or irritated. But right now, what he was irritated at was the problem.

Nothing.

Norway felt like he should be mad at something, _someone_ close to him should be here.

But he looked around, and everyone he cared about (not that he would admit it) was there. Finland and Sweden talking to Sealand about the reasons he should be there. Iceland and Hong Kong discussing something he rather not get into.

He saw some spilled beer, and was once more ticked off because he felt like _someone_ should slip on it. Not just any ordinary person. That one person who was missing from the meeting.

Someone he should be close to...'_But all the Nordics are here_.' He thought. True enough, there was four Nordics (plus Sealand) and there were all here, according to his mind.

'_Why does it feel like something's missing_?' He was about to ask Iceland when he heard a loud bang and saw an almost crying Italy run to Germany.

This, in turn, turned to a conversation involving France and England. He turned away, not interested in finding out another thing Italy was afraid of. He already had a long list on it. And it wasn't even useful. He went towards the door, determined to find the thing that was making him lose his cool.

His hand was already closed around the door handle when he heard Italy scream.

**A/N: I'm sooo tired. I just wanna sleep. But i'm writing the new chapter for 'Exactly what it seems' so it will be worth it. i think. my brain is stew right now. i've been awake since friday researching anime and doing homework. Tomorrow is sunday. another all-nighter. oh well. the hardships of being a yaoi shipping fangirl. **


	3. Self esteem and other social problems

If he had a penny for every time he got pissed, he'd have alot of fucking pennies.

ALOT.

OF FUCKING.

PENNIES.

Not that they mattered anymore. Right now, all that matter was...what was it again? All of his (immortal) life, he was always compared.

Compared to his dumb ass brother. He didn't hate him. Oh no, nobody could possibly hate his fratello. Yes, he wasn't very bright, but every one absolutely adored did they ever adore him.

No.

Ever since he was young, everyone, including his Nonno, thought that Veneziano Italy, his precious 'little' brother, was for more important and likable than him, Romano Italy. And they were probably right. He did cuss at people alot, hit them, taunt them, and just generally pissed them off. They kept their distance from them, and in return, he kept his distance from them.

That was the way it was supposed to be. Or so he thought. But that tomato bastard just had to squirm his way into his philosophy and fuck it up. Have you ever heard of the expression that falling in love was like staring at the ground your entire life and then looking up at the sky? It kind of felt like that, but instead of willing looking up, the bastard just yanked my head up. Fucking horrible.

Falling in love with the person who raised you. It was kind of like fucking incest. Except not really. Fuck.

**Reader, be Romano ==**

You are now Romano. You have no idea what the fuck that means, nor why you are thinking of this pointless conversation. Just fucking pointless.  
>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX<p>

Romano sighed as he entered his hotel room. The world meeting was being held in America.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It wasn't that he hated him, it was more like he didn't want to be near with other assholes.

He was already one. He didn't need more pessimism in his life. Honestly, looking at all the other nations fawn on his fratello wasn't exactly on his bucket list. He honestly didn't see the point in living anymore.

He knew he could kill himself; being half a nation meant he couldn't regenerate as fast as other nations, leaving enough time to inflict a wound fatal enough to kill himself instantly. Like hanging. There was a point in his life when you were obsessed with hanging.

Watching corpse hang from ropes, like ornaments hanging off a Christmas tree. So very pretty ornaments. But, he couldn't just abandon his brother (and that potato bastard) like that.

He knew if any one were to care about his death, it would be them. But right know, he could hardly care less. For some reason, he was feeling more depressed than usual, which is an achievement in itself. It was almost like, with every passing moment, the black hole in his heart was getting bigger.

It was an awful feeling, but you welcomed it. As the hole grew bigger, so did the quantity of your suicidal thoughts. And just as you believed the darkness would reach its peak, his fucking phone rang. The darkness gathering around the edges of his eyes disappeared, and most of the dark feeling. Most of it.

He really didn't want to check the bastard that texted him, but he guess he owed it for getting out of that depressed shit. So he looked at his phone, almost feeling gratitude... only to find some fucking trippy language.

The one damn time he was feeling thankful and he's meet with random shit. He sighed out loud, but clicked the damn link connected to the message. He did owe the thing, after all. But then he regretted, because as soon as he clicked it, the darkness returned, worse than before. And before Romano knew it, he no longer existed in this world.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
><strong>Romano, be Veneziano ==<strong>

You still don't know what this means, but then again, you don't know alot of things.

Italy slammed the doors to the meeting room open. When he woke up this morning, something wasn't right.

Something was missing.

He tried calling out to Romano, but it didn't work. He could usually feel where Romano was, but now he couldn't. And he felt empty. Really empty. And it hurt.

He opened the doors and immediately went towards Germany. Right now, he needed to feel full, and not in a sexual way. "Italy, what's wrong?" he asked. He just buried himself deeper into Germany's chest, liking the way it vibrated slightly as he talked.

" I c-can't fi-find f-fr-fratello anyw-where" he stuttered out and broke into tears. The empty feeling was just growing, and not even Germany's presence made it better. He heard England and Big Brother France fighting, and then remembered what else had happened. When he went to go drop off America's daily allowance of pasta, he found the house deserted.

It didn't look like any one had moved out. It just looked like no one had been there in the first place. "E-england!" he spoke again, not really trusting his voice but having to try anyway. "Yes?" he responded, and Italy thought that he saw sympathy in his eyes. "I couldn't find A-america e-either, e-even a-after he a-asked me to b-bring him p-pasta. He n-never m-misses p-pasta!"

England gave him a quizzical look, and asked "Who's America?"

That was when the world started spinning.

**A/N: Fuck, i've been reading too much Homestuck...NOT. Everyone knows you can't read too much Homestuck ;) But still, i apologize for not updating sooner. I have the next chapter for 'Exactly what it seems' written out, i just need to type it. There has just been too many fucking things that r keeping me busy, and it's just like...Fuck, i can't even think straight. Oh well, don't expect another update too soon. Probably next month.**


	4. Principals on suicide and disappearing

Being alone wasn't something new for Canada. If someone asked him (if they bothered to notice him) if he was lonely, he would reply with a smile. Of course, the asker would not suspect anything and move on with their day.

Moral #1: Do not take gestures as answers.

Ever since America rebelled against England and won, Canada started making up small morals everyday. He always started with a fresh list of morals everyday, and the ones he liked the most he would write down.

Moral #2: Remember and observe.

It had become quite a habit now. The slightest reminder of a previous moral set him off into tons of them, listing off his favorites to the ones that followed. And another day at the world meeting, he softly smiled as he came into his hotel.

He arrived at his room a bit later than planned, having to convince the manager yet again that he was in fact a paying guest. He flopped onto the bed, feeling the springs dig into his back. He gave a small puff of laughter at that.

Inside his mind, he wanted to cry, but his body interpreted this as a form of hysteria. No one could tell the difference, though. He had soft features, a gentle nature, and an unwillingness to be insane. Those things made the fine line between insanity and sanity finer. It didn't stop the depression, though.

When he was younger, he was very happy with his Papa, France. It was nice, and he got to visit America a lot. But as he grew older, things between his family had gotten so cold it was almost if as it existed in one of his coldest winters.

Then he became one of England's colonies and the revolution started. He was far from okay. He once told America about this, but he had his own battles to fight at the time. So he just kept it bottled up like a dam that was to explode.

But it never did. It was probably due to the fact that he told himself lies as white as his snow.

Moral #3: Make them proud.

He had almost forgotten the reason he had been living, but now, staring up at the crappy ceiling of this hotel, reminding him of his crappy life, he remembered. He was drowning in irony.

He didn't really want to book his stay in this hotel, but all the other ones he tried to reserve over the phone didn't notice that there was someone on the other side of the line, which he found stupid.

I mean, it wasn't as if a freaking ghost called them? But then again, he did have very ghost-like attributes, and they were Americans. So he just came here instead. And he really didn't blame America.

Well, he did tear apart their family, and he did steal all the attention, and he might have been the cause of all this despair, but he was his brother. Sort of.

They were raised together, lived on the same continent, and had the longest undefended border in the world. They knew a lot about each other. America did notice him, but he just didn't have the resolve to lie to him. They both wore fake smiles, although America's were on purpose.

They knew each other's little quirks and occasionally had a movie night, when the other was feeling like actually living, if only for a few hours. They only thing they didn't know about each other was that they didn't know why the other suffered.

They found the other blessed with good attributes, so it was very confuzzuling.

Moral #4: Don't judge anything.

Screw not 'judging a book by its cover.' People shouldn't judge at all. Just imagine all the morals that would go to was- . Canada was broken from his thoughts by the vibrating of a phone in his pocket. Fishing it out like the Canadian he was, he saw an email addressed to him.

He hardly ever got emails! Granted, he never got ads, which he supposed was okay, but it was still nice to see that some one noticed him. He clicked on it, feeling a bit joyful of the fact that someone other than America (and Prussia, but that's story for another day) acknowledged his existence.

'_Dr. Realist, huh?'_ he clicked the link attachment and felt his entire body go numb.

It was kind of as if it was falling asleep, but much colder. Not that he minded. It never bothered him much. The world kind of turned gray and spun, dizzying Canada more than he already was. And at last, it went black.

Moral #5? Real or Fake?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Prussia silently sneaked passed the guards that were 'supposedly' guarding the world meeting hall.

Two of them were playing go fish, and he was pretty sure the third one was asleep. Nonetheless, the awesome being of awesomeness made it to the actual meeting place with a great stride. He was considering either to play some super-ultra amazing prank on Franny, or to pester Antonio until his Italian lover blows his tits off. Ha.

The mere image of Romano's pissed off face brought a smirk to his. He could also do the same with West, but he thought of better option that blew all other ones to bits. Hang out with Birdie. That Canadian was a slice of pancake heaven to him.

Super yummy.

He looked around, searching for that beacon of awesomeness. He didn't understand why Birdie was never noticed, but most of the time, he didn't mind. More Birdie to himself. But he did flip his shit whenever someone ran into him. Speaking of running into people, he just did that with Finland.

Sweden shot him a look that could have killed armies, Iceland didn't care, and Norway didn't notice. But he sure did look angry. That was probably the most emotion he saw on his face. Denmark must have really screwed things up this time.

But as he went though the nations that gathered, he didn't find his little Vögelchen. And as he looked under the table, he heard Italy bursting in crying. Prussia somehow knew that something was wrong, not just because Italy was crying, but because the world didn't seem as perfect anymore.

Not that it ever was, but the air seemed heavier, and the colors a bit dull. And even if you had a throbbing heart with feelings, the emotions would seem to dull and turn to ash, only to be blown away by the wind.

Moral #6: Ashes to ashes

**A/N: i could come up with a million excuses on why i didn't update sooner, but im not gunna. just to save u the trouble. Just want to get striaght to the point. **

**PRUSSIA AND ITALY CAN REMEMBER THE 'LOST' NATIONS BECAUSE PRUSSIA IS TECHNICALLY DISSOLVED AND ITALY IS HALF A NATION.**

**just thought u should know. btw, i totally ship Prucan. u'll be seeing a lot of that in here :3**


	5. I doubt you know why the caged bird sang

Imagine you had everything in the world that a person could possibly want.

Fame.

Fortune.

A strong reputation to be feared.

Family that looked up to you.

Then, imagine having all of that being taken one by one from you, as if someone was injecting you with poison that hurt and killed you a little bit more with every dose. That is what China went through. And, god, did it hurt.

Nations, from the ones he called rivals to the ones formerly known as family, had ended up torturing him in their own ways, even if it was unintentional. And no matter what China did, the names always flashed beneath his eyelids, permanently engraved there as if it were a warning signal.

_Japan_  
><em>Vietnam<em>  
><em>Taiwan<em>  
><em>North Korea<em>  
><em>South Korea<em>  
><em>Russia<em>  
><em>Hong Kong<em>  
><em>England<em>

One way or another, these nations did horrors to his heart that was more than his sanity could bear. That is, of course, if he was human.

Unfortunately, the mind-numbing-ness of insanity could not take over yet, or ever, seeing as nations not only have 'immortality', but they also had extreme tolerance levels for 'the chattering of teeth and lack of common sanity'. Even so, the boundaries of immortality and the state of mind can be pushed.

An example of that is what was happening to China right now. He was currently staying at an Japanese styled house near the meeting place. America had first offered the place to China, saying that Japan usually stayed hear when the meetings where held by him, but this time around, he chose to keep Greece company.

China was no fool, and, even though he was surprised at the offer, humbly accepted. Hospitality was the last thing China had expected from the young nation, especially since China teased him so much. But now, he started to regret the decision a bit.

Although it was better than any American hotel (in his opinion), it reminded him too much of a certain someone he used to take care of. One he once considered family, a brother. That was all before he stabbed him.

He forgave him, but scars like that never vanished, and pain like that could last eternity. Shaking himself from these thoughts, he slipped out of his attire (made from only the finest silk) and went to the futon. His heart practically screamed out loud.

It hurt emotionally everyday, but being surrounded by these things was sprinkling it with salt and shoving it in ice. It freezes, but does not stop the feelings. Harsh feelings.

Just as he felt as if he was about to blow, China felt his iPhone go off (his boss insisted to get one, since updating him on his country's status the old fashioned way was too difficult). It was not an update, but rather, an offer.

_Click this link and leave your mind in illusions!_

Being the sensible county he was, he clicked it. And then he felt a soft heat tingle up his arm.  
>It was like, nostalgia, from the good old days, coming back to him, engulfing him a black warmth. He finally let the tears he held back flow from his eyes, and let a genuine smile depart from his lips.<br>It had been a long time since he felt such warm embrace.

**~~~~~~~~~kyoku2chan~~~~~~~~~~**

As Japan stared across the meeting room, he could not help but feel like something was amiss. But there could not be. England was arguing with France. Greece and Turkey were both trying to steal his attention. Italy was late.

Sealand was sneaking in (or attempting, seeing as he couldn't get past without England spying on him.) Prussia...hmm. Japan observed the ex-nation carefully. He looked lost, as if he was looking for something. Before anymore examination could be done, Italy burst in and started to blubber to Germany, looking distressed.

Japan tried to listen, but the two nations fighting for him were having none of that, and try as he might, there was simply no escaping the rivalry between Greece and Turkey. He was about to open his mouth to object to this treatment, but was broken off by a scream. Italy's scream.

It seems as though something _is_ amiss...

**A/N: this is waaay overdo. but whatever. nuff said. seeya next chappie...**


	6. Here and Now

**from this point on, characters will be slightly ooc, some of them more than others.**  
><strong>CHECK THE UPDATE IN MY BIO. IF YOU PLAN TO READ MORE OF MY STORIES IN THE FUTURE, YOU NEED TO KNOW THE RUNDOWN ON HOW 'I' MANAGE THEM<strong>

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

somewhere a boy was smiling  
>somewhere a child was laughing<br>somewhere children were playing  
>somewhere, a place was full of happiness<p>

that place was not the meeting room

on the contrary, it seems that no real positive feelings could be found in this place. After England let a seemingly harmless question slip through his lips, Italy had gone in hysterics.

Many nations were confused enough as it is, most of them, heck, all of them feeling as though if something(s) was missing. With this added turn of events, anarchy spread, and soon the meeting room broke into a full out war, every nation for themselves.

Of course, nations took sides, Switzerland sheltering Lichtenstein behind a turned table, Poland dragging Lithuania next to a barricade of chairs.

Pure chaos.

That is, until Germany took over.

"EVERYONE, THAT IS ENOUGH!"

The fight stopped almost as fast as it started, the only sound that could be heard were those of Italy's whimpers. "Now, since there are other problems to attend to, i trust that all of you will be on your best behavior while i take care of italy".

With that, Germany stormed across the room, picked up Italy bridal style, and left the room, giving a steely eye to France and England in the process. France winked at him and England merely scoffed as he left. When the nation gave no indication to return, Japan turned to England and asked in a polite tone "What did you say to trigger Italy?"

The words themselves came out light and reserved, but England looked as though he had been accused harshly of a crime he did not commit. "How the bloody hell should i know? All i did was ask him a question, and then he turned into a blubbering fool."

Japan accepted this answer with mild interest, but on the inside his heart fluttered dangerously faster. What could have caused this? Surely Italy could not have acted so profoundly in the situation of asking a question. "What was it that you asked?" Japan inquired carefully, not wanting to tip England off in any sort of direction towards aggression.

"I honestly don't know. He said something about a bloke called 'America', and when i asked who he was, he started to yell. Who would name a kid America! It doesn't even make the slightest bit of sense!" As England said this, though, a strange look came across his face, mimicking that of someone who is trying to remember something important, but just can't place what it was.

By this point, Japan had already moved away, scanning the desecrated room to find another nation to question. He approached a dazed looking Spain. The usually lively nation wasn't sporting his trademark childish grin; instead, he had opted with a mild pout, gazing around at nothing in particular.

"Hello, Spain-san" Japan could already tell this would be and awkward conversation. After all, he and Spain never talked much. Spain didn't seem to notice him. Said nation stared and the floor, then at the ceiling, then out the window, then back at the floor.

It was almost as if he were looking for something...or someone. Probably a Spanish thing. Japan moved on to his next option. Prussia. He has often talked to the extravagant nation, due to the fact he had been in an alliance with his west side. It would be almost impossible to miss the starkness of his silver hair. But something happened before he could search for him. His phone alerted him of a new text message, along with every other nation's phone (those who had them on their person, anyway).

It was an IPhone 6, one of the newest models Apple had to offer. Japan wasn't completely sure why he got this phone. Was it because...someone had nagged him about it? Yes, it seemed surely possible that someone who was close friends with him and kept up with the technology trends nagged him into getting it. Perhaps in a childish way? And wasn't there a discussion about whales somewhere in there? Japan shook his head. He must clear his head of these thoughts.

But, like a sensible nation, he checked his phone. huh. A message from a man named .

_**None of you had an interest in [Truths],**_  
><em><strong>instead, you were piglets who are satisfied with the [Theatre (Fantasy)]<strong>_

Japan suddenly felt a nagging feeling in his chest. It was a similar feeling of having a loved being lost. Not dead, but not available, like having them in a coma. It hurt and ached.

it's probably for the best to ignore these feelings.  
>Having a clear grip on reality must come first.<br>Even if it kills you.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Somewhere, a man is crying  
>somewhere, a person is lonely<br>somewhere, nations are confused  
>somewhere, discord was puppeting people<p>

that place was not where Alfred was

The place where this specific boy was did not matter. Nor does when. If someone were to ask where they were, another would answer 'Here'. And if another person, perhaps Italian, were to ask what time it was, another would answer 'Now'.

Time and space did not apply to such a land. It just so happened that Alfred was in that land. Alfred was a young boy, no more that seven, and had and even younger sense of curiosity. By that instance, i mean stronger. He had woken up not long ago to a place that was _huge; _it was like a huge chess board surrounding him.

For some reason, Alfred knew what a chess board was. He also knew that a person of his age should be able to grasp the gist of chess. It was one of the many strange things that Alfred liked about his mind. It knew certain things, like how you shouldn't touch a hot tea pot, even though he doesn't completely know what a teapot is.

He knows that passenger trains are limited to 59 mph and freight trains to 49 mph, even though in this life he was never taught what trains were, how fast they travel, or what mph even was. Another thing his mind did subconsciously is refer to what he was doing 'this life'.

Almost as if it were hinting that he had lived in a previous life. But that wouldn't make any sense. He was Alfred F. Jones, and even though he wasn't sure how he knew that or what the f in his name stands for, he knew for sure that he has never lived in another life. He looks normal enough.

Blue eyes, check.

Blonde hair with cowlick, check.

Wire-fringed glasses, check.

Even now, as he counted off the things that made him seem normal, he felt something fluttering at the edge of his mind, like a butterfly to the prying jaws of a dog. So tempting to catch, but whenever you jump to get it, it flies out of your reach.

'_Maybe if i get another opinion, i'll feel better?' _Alfred looked around, but found nothing except the vast majority of the chess board. He looked up at the sky, representing a view it would take half into the day, and then clasped his hands together.

Somewhere, deep in his subconscious. something was telling him that this was stupid. But as soon as he put his palms together, the blue sky took on a more indigo shade, pearly stars making their way out to greet him. 'I want another's opinion' and just as the night had sprung out, it flinged back to where ever it came from.

And soon, Alfred could see the shape of someone making their way across the land.

Time to go greet them.

**A/N: omg so srry fur the crappy chap. Shinpuruna didn't like what i said about her in the bio., saying something about being acknowledged in such a way was a profanity or something. OMG HELP SH E IS USEING BIG WORDS I DON'T KNO WHAT THEY MEAN HEPL PLZ. she made me co-write this with her. i don't know what half of these words mean. heeeeeeeelp.**


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